Salvation
by Siaynoqsbride
Summary: Mustafar AU. ObiWan does not come with Padme on the ship... but will it mean her doom or her salvation? Romance, Drama. Updated 11.6.05
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- Alright, here Alright, here I go with this! This is just a real quick story that I'm going to write while preparing for another epic. It's probably going to be about four or five posts; while I'd like to turn it into a full-length epic, I simply don't have the time. I have two ways I could go with this. It could be either really, really angsty, dark and depressing or have an ultimatley happy ending. I might just end up with an ending and an alternate one, but your thoughts on this would be highly appreciated.  
_

**Chapter One**

Padmé watched as her ship slowly touched down on Mustafar. Red-hot, fiery lava surged and bubbled far beneath her, and it was made clear to her that this place was in constant turmoil; that even during the night in this place there would not be a brief respite from the conditions. She closed her eyes, her sudden weariness having nothing to do with the pregnancy and everything to do with what was about to happen.

Even before the cloaked figure appeared before her, even before she began to get up to run down to meet him, some part of her knew. Some part of her felt that it was too late, that something had happened that she could not mend, something had been done that she could not undo. It was in the way her heart felt suddenly heavy, the lead numbness that had settled at the bottom of her stomach. Her eyes rolled up as she grimaced; only wanting to seek comfort, only wanting to drown herself in their love, to forget, to allow love to blind her…

So it was that she ran into his arms, seeking only the sheer comfort of his warm, sheltering hold, only needing to find words of sweet love on his lips, of gentle honesty in his voice as he spoke. Even as she allowed herself to be held, allowed his name to escape her lips in a gentle cry, she knew.

It was too late.

------

Anakin saw her starship touch down, saw it slowly land on the cracked, weary, dry ground. His first reaction was slight anger that she had come to such a place, that she had dared to disobey him. His second one was of joy that she had come, and knowledge that it was him that she sought, and of hope that she was here.

He embraced her, sliding his arms around her pregnant form, holding her in a way that he knew she needed to be comforted. He had often held her this way, and so his arms settled into a familiar position, his head settling itself into her hair as it had a thousand times before.

When he found his voice, he spoke.

"It's alright, you're safe now." he said softly. Rage rose up in him, almost terrifying in its sudden and abrupt ascent in his emotions. She had nothing to fear from anyone; no one should cause her to tremble as she was, there should never be the need for her to run to him on a mission. "What are you doing out here?" Her eyes fluttered closed as he stroked her hair, closing his eyes.

"I was so worried about you," the words spilled out of her mouth in a desperate rush, "Obi-Wan told me _terrible_ things…"

Anakin's rage flared up again, this time with dark, terrifying intensity. Obi-Wan… and Padmé… the demon of jealousy stirred in him again, and this time he did not try to suppress it. This time he _embraced _it.

"_What_ things?" He growled at her, not caring how his voice sounded, not caring that his hands had tightened to bruising force on her arms.

She only clungto him tighter.

"He said that you have turned to the dark side…" her voice trailed off, and he could feel the agony in her, the pain of getting ready to speak something unbelievable, something so horrendous it was almost too much to say aloud… "That you killed _younglings_."

Anakin did not allow himself pause, did not allow his eyes to see the face of the children he had murdered. He did not respond to her, did not offer any kind of reassurance, for there was none to give. He only tightened his grip, not even knowing he was doing so in his anger until she gave a low cry and pulled away.

The tightness in his throat, the defying fury within him, all the anger he was feeling at his sins being brought out in daylight… all those did not lessen with the words he spoke.

"Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me," he hissed, and his voice had dropped to the point to where it was that of an animal, of a beast not suited for civilization.

------

Padmé stared into his eyes with disbelief, disbelief that grew second by second. This could not be happening; he could not be _accepting_ what she was saying. His eyes could not be the color of flames; he could not have just accused the man who he thought of as a brother of doing this…

The feeling she had since the beginning of her voyage grew, and even as she tried to suppress it, it encompassed her to the point where she wanted to weep, to break down and allow her fists to slam into his chest, to deny what she already knew.

But she had to still try, had to reach him, had to find him, had to _save_ him. For without Anakin… she forced the thought out of her mind desperately. There had to be a way to reach him; there _had _to.

"He cares about us," she said softly, wanting to turn away from the raw hatred and power she saw in his face, the way he stood.

The look in his eyes only grew, and the sense of inevitability that had been hanging over her since she had come arched in her until it was filling her throat with tears and pain grew in her, pain that overcame her until there was nothing else.

"Us?" He asked, and she could sense that he had already let himself go, that he had let himself be corrupted to the point of destruction. Tears formed in her eyes, flowing down her cheeks in sudden weakness. She could not find her strength, could not draw on the internal power she had that allowed her to cut off everything and forget, forget what was happening around her. This cut too deep, too close to her heart.

"He knows," she pleaded. "He wants to _help_ you." She needed help, needed someone to rescue him, for she did not know if even her love, the love that had overpowered everything… she did not know if even that would be enough.

------

Anakin stood still at her words for a second, absorbing them. Help? he thought, the rage burning inside his heart with more and more intensity. Why would anyone need to help him? The only person who needed help, the only person who needed saving… she was standing right in front of him.

And had he not done it all for her? He asked himself the question as bitter self-righteousness grew within him. Had he not murdered for her, given up _everything_ for her, to save her? A snarl grew on his face. He had done it all for her, ascending to new heights of power, triumphing over weakness, and now she wanted to rip it all away from him. She had even dared to trust Obi-Wan over him, had _dared _to go to his betrayer instead of coming to him.

But still, even as he watched her, tenderness blossomed in him. Despite the fact that she had run to Obi-Wan, despite everything that had happened, she was still his wife. She was still the one that he treasured above all others, still his very reason for breath, for life itself. And because he loved her, he would be willing to forgive.

"Is Obi-Wan going to protect you?" he asked, coaxing his voice down to a reasonable intensity. "He can't… he's not strong enough." Obi-Wan did not _deserve_ her. He had done nothing to buy her love, had not given all that Anakin had. Anakin had paid the price, had paid it in every child he had slaughtered, every piece of charred flesh that now lay inside the control center… their bodies had bought her life. It was more then fair trade.

As Padmé stood before him, countless images of Anakin streamed through her head. Waking up, caressing her face, stroking her cheeks softly as he bent down for a kiss… laughing, saturated with blissful contentment… Love rising softly, love that passed over everything, nothing remaining unchanged, hearts binding themselves together…

And as he now stood before her, she closed her eyes, only wanting to see her husband again, only wanting to see his warm smile, only wanting to feel his fingers, calloused by saber training, glide softly over her skin… But even as she stood there, remembering, she knew with a sudden inevitability that she could not escape any longer, could not avoid.

He was no longer Anakin Skywalker, she thought, and tears coursed even more freely down her face.

He was gone to her; lost.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Alright! After reading all the replies and getting some plot bunnies, I have decided to make not two but (gasp, shock) three alternate endings. One will be happy, the other one will be either happy or angsty depending on your point of view, and the third will be pure angst._ _And thanks so much to the people who replied to the last chapter, especially VAParky. Hope you enjoy this one! _

**Chapter One**

Padmé watched as her ship slowly touched down on Mustafar. Red-hot, fiery lava surged and bubbled far beneath her, and it was made clear to her that this place was in constant turmoil; that even during the night in this place there would not be a brief respite from the conditions. She closed her eyes, her sudden weariness having nothing to do with the pregnancy and everything to do with what was about to happen.

Even before the cloaked figure appeared before her, even before she began to get up to run down to meet him, some part of her knew. Some part of her felt that it was too late, that something had happened that she could not mend, something had been done that she could not undo. It was in the way her heart felt suddenly heavy, the lead numbness that had settled at the bottom of her stomach. Her eyes rolled up as she grimaced; only wanting to seek comfort, only wanting to drown herself in their love, to forget, to allow love to blind her…

So it was that she ran into his arms, seeking only the sheer comfort of his warm, sheltering hold, only needing to find words of sweet love on his lips, of gentle honesty in his voice as he spoke. Even as she allowed herself to be held, allowed his name to escape her lips in a gentle cry, she knew.

It was too late.

------

Anakin saw her starship touch down, saw it slowly land on the cracked, weary, dry ground. His first reaction was slight anger that she had come to such a place, that she had dared to disobey him. His second one was of joy that she had come, and knowledge that it was him that she sought, and of hope that she was here.

He embraced her, sliding his arms around her pregnant form, holding her in a way that he knew she needed to be comforted. He had often held her this way, and so his arms settled into a familiar position, his head settling itself into her hair as it had a thousand times before.

When he found his voice, he spoke.

"It's alright, you're safe now." he said softly. Rage rose up in him, almost terrifying in its sudden and abrupt ascent in his emotions. She had nothing to fear from anyone; no one should cause her to tremble as she was, there should never be the need for her to run to him on a mission. "What are you doing out here?" Her eyes fluttered closed as he stroked her hair, closing his eyes.

"I was so worried about you," the words spilled out of her mouth in a desperate rush, "Obi-Wan told me _terrible_ things…"

Anakin's rage flared up again, this time with dark, terrifying intensity. Obi-Wan… and Padmé… the demon of jealousy stirred in him again, and this time he did not try to suppress it. This time he _embraced _it.

"_What_ things?" He growled at her, not caring how his voice sounded, not caring that his hands had tightened to bruising force on her arms.

She only clung to him.

"He said that you have turned to the dark side…" her voice trailed off, and he could feel the agony in her, the pain of getting ready to speak something unbelievable, something so horrendous it was almost too much to say aloud… "That you killed _younglings_."

Anakin did not allow himself pause, did not allow his eyes to see the face of the children he had murdered. He did not respond to her, did not offer any kind of reassurance, for there was none to give. He only tightened his grip, not even knowing he was doing so in his anger until she gave a low cry and pulled away.

The tightness in his throat, the defying fury within him, all the anger he was feeling at his sins being brought out in daylight… all those did not lessen with the words he spoke.

"Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me," he hissed, and his voice had dropped to the point to where it was that of an animal, of a beast not suited for civilization.

------

Padmé stared into his eyes with disbelief, disbelief that grew second by second. This could not be happening; he could not be _accepting_ what she was saying. His eyes could not be the color of flames; he could not have just accused the man who he thought of as a brother of doing this…

The feeling she had since the beginning of her voyage grew, and even as she tried to suppress it, it encompassed her to the point where she wanted to weep, to break down and allow her fists to slam into his chest, to deny what she already knew.

But she had to still try, had to reach him, had to find him, had to _save_ him. For without Anakin… she forced the thought out of her mind desperately. There had to be a way to reach him; there _had _to.

"He cares about us," she said softly, wanting to turn away from the raw hatred and power she saw in his face, the way he stood.

The look in his eyes only grew, and the sense of inevitability that had been hanging over her since she had come arched in her until it was filling her throat with tears and pain grew in her, pain that overcame her until there was nothing else.

"Us?" He asked, and she could sense that he had already let himself go, that he had let himself be corrupted to the point of destruction. Tears formed in her eyes, flowing down her cheeks in sudden weakness. She could not find her strength, could not draw on the internal power she had that allowed her to cut off everything and forget, forget what was happening around her. This cut too deep, too close to her heart.

"He knows," she pleaded. "He wants to _help_ you." She needed help, needed someone to rescue him, for she did not know if even her love, the love that had overpowered everything… she did not know if even that would be enough.

------

Anakin stood still at her words for a second, absorbing them. Help? he thought, the rage burning inside his heart with more and more intensity. Why would anyone need to help him? The only person who needed help, the only person who needed saving… she was standing right in front of him.

And had he not done it all for her? He asked himself the question as bitter self-righteousness grew within him. Had he not murdered for her, given up _everything_ for her, to save her? A snarl grew on his face. He had done it all for her, ascending to new heights of power, triumphing over weakness, and now she wanted to rip it all away from him. She had even dared to trust Obi-Wan over him, had _dared _to go to his betrayer instead of coming to him.

But still, even as he watched her, tenderness blossomed in him. Despite the fact that she had run to Obi-Wan, despite everything that had happened, she was still his wife. She was still the one that he treasured above all others, still his very reason for breath, for life itself. And because he loved her, he would be willing to forgive.

"Is Obi-Wan going to protect you?" he asked, coaxing his voice down to a reasonable intensity. "He can't… he's not strong enough." Obi-Wan did not _deserve_ her. He had done nothing to buy her love, had not given all that Anakin had. Anakin had paid the price, had paid it in every child he had slaughtered, every piece of charred flesh that now lay inside the control center… their bodies had bought her life. It was more then fair trade.

**Chapter Two**

Padmé stood before him, despair coursing through her. It was all she felt, all she tasted, it seemed to her all that there _was_. It was not a lack of hope; indeed, it only existed because there _had_ been hope. There was only darkness because there had been light, there had been love, there had been a time without despair. She had to get him to see, to come back to her, tolove her as he had before, with no power-lust or anger. Things as they were before…

"Anakin, all I want is your _love_," she whispered softly. She caught an image in her mind and held it, hoping that he could feel it, see it, live it as she had.

_It was bright daylight outside, and everything was lit up in the gentle warm radiance of the Naboo sun. They were together for only a little while, and so had decided to make them most of it, knowing that Anakin could very well be ripped apart from her again. This was but a brief lull, a temporary respite from all the chaos that threatened to engulf them. _

_Neither was thinking about chaos at the moment, however. Anakin Skywalker lay on the bed, his arms wrapped securely around the form of his wife, holding her securely. She lay awake, not wanting to move and break the moment. She smiled softly as she saw the corners of his lips turn up in a smile. Her smile only grew as she traced the smile with wonder, feeling his lips and cheeks with the tip of her finger, tracing lazy circles around his face. _

_When he opened his eyes, they were filled with the warmest, deepest content she had ever seen in them. The tender, almost overwhelming expression she saw in them filled her to the depths of her soul, and she basked in the warmth of his gaze, sharing with him the peace of a quiet morning. _

"_Morning, Love," she whispered softly to him. He grinned and leaned forward to kiss her gently, for all intents and purposes looking like a young mischievous child, not the man he had become. She pressed closer to him, wanting only to feel his lips on hers, drowning out the world as he kissed…_

_He broke away, his eyes burning with passion. It receded, however, leaving the lust that had formed behind, and leaving only tenderness. It was a moment before either of them spoke, and then: _

"_What were you doing to my face just now?" The question was asked in a gentle, teasing tone. She smiled demurely, looking away from him, almost embarrassed. But the feel of his hand bringing hers up close enough to touch with his lips was enough for her to forget her shyness. _

"_I was forming a picture of you with my hands," she said, snuggling closer to him. "That way, whenever you're away, my fingers will remember you." She looked up into his eyes, and found that they gleamed softly._

"_Then you will allow me to do the same?" She nodded quietly, and felt his lips kiss her temple. She was about to burst out laughing, but then his mouth moved down to kiss her neck and down to her collarbone, coming up at last to kiss her chastely on the lips. Once she caught her breath, she was able to quirk a quizzical eyebrow. _

"_I was forming a picture with my lips," he said mildly. She mouthed a soundless 'ah,' and then gasped as his warm mouth caressed her shoulder softly. She could make out him murmuring softly something that sounded like 'I love you,' although she could not be sure. When he met her eyes, he took her hands in his, and she felt utterly safe and content. No one could harm her, ever, not with him holding her. _

"_This is all I need," he said, and she knew it was true, could tell by the serenity and passion his gaze radiated. "You are all I will ever want," he whispered, and she smiled, saving the moment in her mind, never wanting to loose it. _

Padmé forced herself back to the present, with Anakin standing before her, dark rage and anger in his face standing clearly out. The memory of the dream and the sheer bitter sweetness of it all threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to be strong, forced herself to look into his eyes, no matter how much it burned her. He was shielded to her, and she could not feel the warmth of his love anymore; she felt alone and cold and frightened in the dark.

"Love cannot save you, Padmé," he said, and the tears only rolled more freely down her face. "Only my new powers can do that."

Padmé understood then, understood everything in one flash. She understood in that moment how it had happened, how the Hero with No Fear had somehow slaughtered children. It was _because _of fear, because of fear that had consumed him. She saw how he had started on the path to save her, to save her_ life_. The cruelty, the bitter, darker side of love had taken him and twisted him into something that he was not. In the end, it was not her who needed saving, not her who needed deliverance.

------

Anakin stood before her, seemingly part of the dark flames that spewed magma beneath him. Love, he thought. She wanted love, wanted the love that she had shown him, wanted him to be as he had been. He wondered how she even thought that that was possible, how she even dreamed that he could return to being the pale, empty shell of Anakin Skywalker. He had transcended his former self, had gone _beyond_ what he had been, and now she wanted his love?

A sneer rose up on his face, and the feelings of tenderness he had before were gone, choked out by the hatred within him. Some part of him saw her tears for the man he had been, and some part echoed them with his own. But he would not allow that part to surface, and so he allowed the darkness to cascade over him, completing him, _unifying _him.

"At what cost?" She asked the question of him, her eyes shining with tears, and again, some part of him could feel her words cutting into him, burning deeply within his heart, and there was an indefinable sense of tragedy he almost allowed himself to feel at her words. He once again buried that part, allowing himself only to see through the eyes of Vader. He was strong, after all; he needed no weakness in him.

He allowed twisted love to wrap itself around him; a rose with thorns that cut deep into him.

"I won't lose you the way I lost my mother," he growled, the fierceness of his possessiveness rising up again. He would never lose her; she was his, forever, she had to be his; there was no life without her. Why couldn't she understand, comprehend that this had all been for her, why couldn't she be grateful?

"I've done it all for you," he hissed, his voice lowering itself. He saw that she was frightened, and although a part of him cried out that she should never have to fear him, that she should only see warm protection in him, the rest of him was _enjoying _the fear in her eyes, the way her bottom lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. "I've become more powerful then any Jedi has ever dreamed of, and I've done it for you. To _protect_ you."

Rage rose up again in him at her refusal to see things the way he had clearly portrayed them to be, the way he had simply _shown_ her all that there was to see and how she was blindly denying him. His love was no longer beautiful as it had been; it had curled and twisted itself until it was almost nothing like it had been before, almost no trace left of Anakin in him.

But even as he denied it to himself, even as the rage rose up in him, filling the empty void of his soul with such a suddenness it was almost frightening, some part of him still knew. Some part of him still realized that there was hope, that there was love that reached beyond the barriers he had set across his heart. And some part of him knew that even in the darkest night, there was still a flame waiting to be lit.

As Padmé stood before him, countless images of Anakin streamed through her head. Waking up, caressing her face, stroking her cheeks softly as he bent down for a kiss… laughing, saturated with blissful contentment… Love rising softly, love that passed over everything, nothing remaining unchanged, hearts binding themselves together…

And as he now stood before her, she closed her eyes, only wanting to see her husband again, only wanting to see his warm smile, only wanting to feel his fingers, calloused by saber training, glide softly over her skin… But even as she stood there, remembering, she knew with a sudden inevitability that she could not escape any longer, could not avoid.

He was no longer Anakin Skywalker, she thought, and tears coursed even more freely down her face.

He was gone to her; lost.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- Sorry this one took me awhile; I'm finding that I suddenly have less and less time on my hands. Anyways, thank you very, veyr much for all the replies; I do appreciate them! And enjoy this one!

**Chapter Three**

Padmé stood, watching Anakin, noting the way his eyes were only empty reflections of the flames below her, not sensing any of his warmth in them. She wanted, once again, for him to hold her, to allow her escape from what was happening. She wanted to wake in his arms, warm and comforted and protected and everything else seeming a dream, a brief nightmare from which they would wake, together.

But she could feel the realness of everything, could smell the lava smoldering beneath her, could almost taste the force of Anakin's rage. There was no denial, only cruel, bitter fate. And it burned her, scarred her deep beneath her surface, beyond her tears, beyond everything else.

Then Padmé felt something tremulous rise up between them, so faint it almost was not there, so uncertain she could barely feel it. She caught after the feeling, however, finding it even in the rush of emotions she was feeling and that she could sense streaming from Anakin.

When she finally was able to reach it, was able to find her way through all the layers of defenses Anakin had set, she almost gasped at the stunning intensity of what she felt. The emotions, the memories, the thoughts, all that she loved and was good about her husband; they all boiled beneath the surface of the monster he had made himself. There was tremendous good in him, unceasing potential that lay just beneath the anger and hate that burned within him. It shone brighter then the lava, brighter then all the stars in the galaxy, brighter then all he had done. It was the core of the man she loved, his goodness and love unceasing.

She had to reach it, had to release him from the shackles he had bound himself to.

"Come away with me," she whispered, looking into his eyes, reaching down to grasp his hand, to give and take comfort from him the way they always had. She searched the expression in his face, knowing that it was simply a lie, that it was not _her_ Anakin that looked like that, that it was all a façade meant to fool her. But she was loyal, and, above that, she loved him and she _knew_ that he loved her.

"Help me raise our child," she husked, and she felt a small kick within her belly, the sign from a new life that was theirs. "Leave everything else behind while we still _can_." She longed to go with him, anywhere where they could be at peace. She would follow him to the edge of the galaxy if there was only a place where they could simply _be_, where he could forget all that he had done. She reached out to him with other senses as well, finding the part within her that loved him the most and casting it away from herself and towards him, _into _him, merging her love with his.

For a moment, there was a slip where thoughts and feelings and regrets flowed into Padmé in a breathtaking moment, and for a moment there were no thoughts, only love and emotions and timelessness. But then the feeling closed itself off, and even as she cried out in her heart, there was nothing to answer her, only the broken strands of a dream.

------

Anakin had felt her reaching out to him, had felt her presence gently brushing his in an intimate way that had burned him. He had felt triumph in her, as if she realized something that he did not, and he had been repulsed at the idea; there was nothing more to him then she saw. Anger won over him in the battle raging in his heart, and he slammed down his shields on her, showing only Vader to his wife.

He heard her gentle plea, and condescending frustration fell over him. She could not see what path he had clearly put before her, so he would have to show her, allow her to see the way…

"Don't you see?" He asked her softly, his eyes glinting. He would be gentle with her now, slowly seducing her with promises, hopes and dreams of a life together that they could have, the life that they were _meant _to have. "We don't have to run away anymore. I have brought peace to the Republic." He cupped her shocked, horrified face in the palm of his hand. She deserved a better life then the one she had been endowed with, the one of loving a man who had sworn his life to the Jedi… she deserved a life as an Empress, powerful, beautiful, loved and revered by all. But she would still be his, only his, he told himself.

There were things that had to come first, Anakin told himself. She had allow herself to come away with him, had to embrace the darkness in herself just as he had recognized it in _himself_.

"I am more powerful then the Chancellor," he said, and he reached out to the limitless power that lay in him, knowing that Padmé could feel it. "I can overthrow him, and together," he took the hand that lay on his arm, "You and I can rule the galaxy. Make things the way we want them to be." The dream that had lodged itself inside his heart now came to the ripeness of all its glory upon being spoken. Anakin smiled.

-------

As Padmé stood before him, countless images of Anakin streamed through her head. Waking up, caressing her face, stroking her cheeks softly as he bent down for a kiss… laughing, saturated with blissful contentment… Love rising softly, love that passed over everything, nothing remaining unchanged, hearts binding themselves together…

And as he spoke of domination and conquest, of dark dreams untouched by the light of their love, she closed her eyes, only wanting to see her husband again, only wanting to see his warm smile, only wanting to feel his fingers, calloused by saber training, glide softly over her skin… But even as she stood there, remembering, she knew with a sudden inevitability that she could not escape any longer, could not avoid the truth.

He was no longer Anakin Skywalker, she thought, and tears coursed even more freely down her face.

He was gone to her; lost. The thing she had felt before… that had only been fleeting, a whisper, nothing transient that she could hold onto. Her hopes and her spirit plummeted, and she could barely breathe for a second as dark inevitability clenched her heart in its dark talons. A whispered name came to the back of her mind, and it was when she mouthed it, when she tasted it on the tip of her tongue and said _Vader_ soundlessly and a chill ran down her spine… only then could she speak.

"Obi-Wan was right… you have changed," she whispered numbly. Her soul darkened to the point where it was just as despairing and hopeless as the landscape around her. Her heart felt as raw and red as the lava that coursed below her, filling the fissures and cracks in the rock. She took her hand back then, and not wanting to hear the next words that came out of his mouth, she still somehow managed to listen.

"I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan," he said firmly, and she clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm to the point where it bled. Obi-Wan was his protector, his mentor, his father… he _loved_ Obi-Wan.

"The Jedi turned against me," he hissed at her, his eyes suddenly turned feral. "Don't you turn against me." The words seemed to rip a new hole in Padmé, somehow seemed to arouse new, unceasing pain. Could he not see that she _loved_ him, that she had always loved him, that she would never even dream of turning on him? Her soul cried out to his in a desperate, aching plea that he did not acknowledge, that she knew he could not. Even the fraction of light that she had seen in him, even that had somehow disappeared, had become engorged within the hate that was Anakin.

------

Anakin could sense parts of him falling into helpless anger. Part of him fought with it, battling the rage that he knew could destroy him… but the other part welcomed the power, allowing it to fill him whole. He ignored her pleas; he was past them, beyond them.

"I don't know you anymore," she choked, sobbing. He thought, his mind tinged with the sharp blade of arrogance, _Then why don't you _try"Anakin," she pleaded with him, "You're breaking my heart." A part of him revolted against the words, hating himself for hurting her, hating himself for everything he had done… "I'll never stop loving you, but you are going down a path I can't follow."

Anakin's thoughts withdrew into themselves, and he encased himself behind a solid durasteel wall into which there crept no light. Why could she not follow him, give into her desires and passions as he had? What could possibly overcome the force of their love? The answer came to him, white-hot and searing in its betrayal.

"Because of Obi-Wan?" He asked, speaking through a suddenly tightened throat. Jealousy flared up in him, as his mind, even as he told it to stop, played out images of them together… His lips caressing her skin, his beard rasping across her cheek as he whispered secrets in her ear… Rage poured into him, more dangerous and hotter then the lava beneath him, and this time, there was no reveling, no wallowing and rejoicing in the force of his power and majesty.

This time, there was only revulsion and the unbearable shock of betrayal, one that was imminent and rose up in him, darker then he had ever dreamed it could be.

And it was all directed at his wife, his love, his _angel_.

He found that he did not care.

**Ending One**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ending One **

**Part One**

Padmé looked at Anakin, noting all the differences in him, feeling his hate reach up like grasping fingers of night to envelop her. She gasped a little with the pain, a simple exhalation of fear and love and tension.

"Obi-Wan?" She asked him the question through a tightened throat. Her and his master? The thought would have been laughable, were it not for the intensity in him, the anger that burned uncontrollably. She had finally settled into a place beyond pain, where there was only numbness. She felt removed from everything, cut off from herself, from the man who stood before her. She was watching the scene through distant eyes, seeing and noting everything without feeling it. She watched her throat tense, watched her reach out to her husband, watched him remove his hand from hers.

"Is that what you think of me, Anakin?" She asked him the question softly, repressing her tears. The darkness coalesced and manifested itself in his eyes, the fingers a reality as they graped her arms, pinning them to her sides.

He glared at her, hate and violence in his every touch, his every expression and word.

"My faithful, loving wife, aren't you, Padmé?" He asked her the question with mocking sarcasm, and his grip tightened on her. She refused to cry out as his fingers tightened to bruising force around her, an embrace of dark pain.

"You've betrayed me, Anakin." The words came unbidden to her lips, rising up from a place deep inside of her that still had strength. His gloved hands relaxed their hold, and she could see the shock in his expression. He had not expected her to fight back. The numbness in Padmé's heart dissipated, replaced by a righteous anger that grew, smoldering within her, the fire sparked to life.

"You've betrayed all of us!" She hissed the words at him now, feeling herself grow in power and in anger. The pain had transformed itself into the fury that coiled within her now, white-hot and blazing. He had been her husband, and he had _not chosen her_. She had loved him, and he had rejected her, betrayed her. The words only fueled the flame rising within her.

"Me, Obi-Wan, our _children_. What right do you have to ask me what I have done?" He had released her all-together, now and was standing back from her, eyes darkening with confusion and anger.

"I love you," she shouted, and the words were an accusation, an insult, mocking him for all he had done to her, to them. Her eyes softened as feeling returned to her, emotions throbbing within her. Pain had returned, but it seemed less overwhelming, less able to consume her. She felt weary, and whispered softly to him, imploring him, "I love you."

He snarled, regaining himself, and used his hand to slap her aside with blinding, consuming force. As Padmé fell to the ground, she felt weakness crawl over her; she was tired, tired of fighting, tired of everything that had happened. She had never felt so vulnerable in her life; the strength was gone, and she simply wanted to rest.

------

Anakin felt a whirling torrent of hate come to him. It forced his hand to come forward before he knew what he was doing, forced him to hurt her. There was something inside of him that screamed, crying out with terror for Padmé, for her love, for her safety. He felt a surge of sudden, unexpected self-hatred as she tumbled to the floor, looking helpless and weak. There was a tide of fear and anguish that he had barely suppressed; he drew on more and more of his hatred to bite it back.

He stood, looking at the form of his wife, her head down in a demure pose of surrender. His breathing came harsher now; short gasps brought on by emotion. He felt vaguely sick, the rage in him consuming him slowly.

A picture he did not want to see rose to his mind, of the corpse of a child, innocent face turned upwards, eyes still hazed with shock and fear. The look was echoed in her eyes, in her face. He could feel her condemnation descending to him, even as she bowed her head in submission. He closed his eyes, parting his lips, and realized that part of himself echoed the shock emblazoned on their faces.

Panic rose up in his chest, quick and terrifying. He had set himself on this path, knowing it was the only way. He could not, _would_ not second-guess himself, not now, not after all that had happened. He could not afford the weakness brought on by doubt and love. What was love anyways? Power was more lasting, stronger, could stand the test of time. Love was fading, fleeting, a simple emotion that was controllable.

Even as he repeated these words to himself, their comfort empty and void, much like power's cold embrace, his heart screamed as he saw blood on her face.

And kept screaming.

------

He stood above her, his face wrenched in anguish. Padmé did not fight to stand; it was not worth the effort. She knew he thought her defeated, thought he had won. Sorrow ripped her open, exposing all of herself to him. She was defenseless, vulnerable. There were no shields between her raw, aching emotions and his eyes. They penetrated her as she looked up into them, invading her with his very presence. She could not look away.

"I betrayed you," he whispered softly, and it was a statement of fear and doubt and hesitation. She did not allow hope to fill her, did not allow herself the slow upwelling of peace and love.

"You betrayed me, Padmé," he raged, eyes filling full of anger and hatred. She closed her eyes as he knelt down to her, ripping off his glove, forcing her to stand as his hand closed around her throat.

His hand was cold and harsh against her skin. In a delirious moment, she could feel his pulse echoing hers softly, and she opened her eyes, looking into his. All she could see were his blue eyes, and, for one heart-stopping second, she saw Anakin.

"Are you going to kill me, Annie?" She asked him the question softly, speaking to him as she had when they were lovers. His eyes burned into hers before he let go, and fell to the ground with a soft cry.

------

Anakin did not know what it had been about the look in her eyes, about the gentle trust that had been there. He did not know what had been the catalyst for the charging, rushing, overpowering emotion that had come over him. He did not know if it had been the love in her eyes that had caused this to happen to him; all he knew was pain.

All of Anakin Skywalker that he had been repressing, all of his fear and cruel damnation, all of that came to him, more powerful then the hatred, more overwhelming then the power. He gasped, unable to do anything else as Anakin overcame him in a massive coup d'etat, and all he could see were the corpses of those he had murdered, all he could hear their screams. They stared at him with unblinking eyes, and he hissed, squirming away from them, but they followed him everywhere.

The last one was the cruelest. Padmé stood, her eyes dead and unseeing, a tear tricking down her pale cheek. He cried out to her in fear and need, denying what he saw, denying everything...

But he could not hide any longer, and the weight of everything he had done overcame him. Had he not been thinking of killing her, murdering her, pressing down on the small pulse at the base of her neck until it was no more? Had he not murdered _children_?

He wept then as the visions left him, rocking himself back and forth, weeping for himself, for them, for all that had happened, for Padmé, for her love for him. He could barely feel the arms that encircled him, giving him warmth and comfort. He could barely feel the tears that rolled down his cheeks, the tears that mingled with hers.

In that moment, he was neither Anakin Skywalker nor Lord Vader. He was a simple, lost child, who had strayed too far from the path, and the woman comforting him was his wife, his life, his light.

And she was enough.

------

Padmé had not believed what she had seen, had not even dreamed that he could have possibly come back to her. She had felt shock at first as he had fallen down on the floor, and as he had screamed, eyes closing to see darkness. It was only when he had broken down, sobbing pitifully like a small child, that she had understood.

She had her own revelation, no less stunning. She came back to herself, realizing who she was, what had happened. Her strength had grown until she was Padmé again, the Padmé who had been Queen, who had been Anakin Skywalker's wife.

She had looked down on him then, and emotions had stirred in her. First, there had been a sense of vindictiveness, of knowing that this was what he deserved. Then, there had been pity, and finally something that was neither.

She was still his wife, still the one he loved. Even in his darkest throes, she had loved him, had always been there. She was still his light, his life, and he was still hers. They could deal with what he had done later. Right now, she had to comfort him, and he needed her. Compassion overcame her as she wept into his hair and he clung to her.

------

It seemed like hours that they were in each other's arms, weeping, comforting and fearing. It might have been; time did not matter, not now.

Anakin finally pulled away from her, eyes lowered. He said, in a dark, weary, broken voice, "I do not deserve comfort."

Padmé looked at him, still full of compassion and tenderness.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that," he hissed, turning towards her. She looked into his eyes and saw flat despair and darkness, his eyes haunted and shadowed.

"I am nothing," he murmured softly, turning away.

She waited for a second before speaking.

"You were something once," she said. She took his hand, and he did not resist, although his muscles tensed.

She took his hand, the one that had grabbed her throat earlier, and put it on her belly so he could feel the answering kick from their child. His eyes regarded her stomach with something less then curiosity; detachment.

"You were my husband, Anakin."

His eyes met hers, and she saw limitless pain in them. He took his hand away.

"That was before... before what I did."

She could see him forcing himself to say the words, forcing himself to come to terms with what he had done, saying it bitterly.

"There is still hope for you."

His expression met hers, his eyes looking dead and dull.

"There is no hope, Padmé."

A light entered her eyes, and she reached towards his hand, touching it, taking it with her own. She put it up to her cheek, noting that it trembled. She closed her eyes, giving him warmth and love, love that had left him.

"I am your hope," she uttered softly.

She could feel the struggle within him, the need to give in to her and allow himself to be loved. She touched his hand with her lips softly, and he withdrew it, snatching it away as if her touch had burned.

"Leave," he said suddenly. "Leave; you and the baby will be better off that way."

She could see the tears trickling down his cheeks, illuminated by the dark red lava below them.

She kept her silence, not knowing what to say. He turned towards her abruptly, eyes pleading with her to condemn him.

"I killed children, Padmé. _Children_. I slaughtered them. They were innocents, and I..."

Padmé's soul ached with the words.

"It does not matter, Anakin. You are still my husband, still the one I love, still the one I will always love." Her eyes regarded his tortured ones silently, and she acknowledged, "Yes, you have done terrible things."

He looked down, and she saw regret and remorse in every line, every fiber of his being. She swallowed, as the reality of his words threatened to sink into her, filling her with the same revulsion. And she felt everything he did, his words and emotions slowly filling her to the brim until she knew what it felt like to be Anakin Skywalker

"In the end," she choked out, gasping with emotion, "There is still hope." His haunted, dark eyes turned to her. "For both of us."

"I need you, Anakin," she said, and it was a plea, a desperate, gaping need that threatened to destroy her. It was her weakness and her strength; they were children, comforting each other in the dark, reliant only on each other's light to lead the other into a world of insidious evil that threatened to swallow them whole.

"And you need me, Love." She knelt before him, and he did not resist her as she mouthed in his ear, "I love you."

------

The simple transcendence of those words washed over Anakin, leaving him stunned and frightened. He shrunk away from the warmth, from her light and her love, not wanting to know it because he did not deserve it, because had hurt her, because he could _still_ hurt her. He did not deserve her; he never had, he was worlds below her, she a radiant angel that dared to bestow her glory on a depraved, destroyed creature of the night.

Her eyes pleaded with his, even as he wanted to tell her to stop, that he was not worth saving, he could remember.

He could remember the man he had been, the small, easy, calm grin that had tugged at his lips sometimes. He could remember Obi-Wan, could remember loving his master like a brother. He could remember waves of pure radiance, washing over him simply by being in her presence.

The memories were tinted with bitterness, knowing that he could never go back to that life, could never be the man she claimed to love. She would be safer without him, safer apart.

And yet...

Her hand was extended in the air between them. It was pale and radiant, seeming to rise up out of the darkness of the air around them. She shone with beauty and light, even with her red-rimmed eyes and dried blood in a stream down from her mouth. Her presence lifted him out of the mire, and even as he resisted, he knew that he could not any longer, because he needed her, and even now, he was too selfish to refuse what she was giving him...

A chance to start over...

"Love?" His voice rasped in his throat, halting and unsteady. He attempted a feeble, weak, bitter chuckle. "I don't deserve this."

She grabbed his hand, holding it with her own, and this time, he found the strength to hold her back, to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

"None of us deserve what we are given, Annie." Her eyes radiated out compassion and tenderness, promising comfort. "But, even through all that you have done... I love you."

He allowed the words to soak into him as he stood, getting stumblingly to his feet, seeing clearly for the first time. A bit of the old life returned to his eyes, and he smiled.

"You and I... we will go far away," he breathed, finally realizing. "No one will ever find us, and our child." She smiled, kissing his hand, and he did not resist her. "We will be happy, Love."

The true wonder of those words soaked into his soul, setting him ablaze with light and radiance. He shone again, suddenly, and the darkness, all of it, it seemed like a bad dream, like none of it had ever happened, and he was just now waking.

She pulled him into an embrace, rocking him back and forth. He smiled contently, eyes closing in bliss and relief as they reached for each other in the Force, presences mixing and melding and twisting together. The pure joy of it all threatened to overwhelm him, and the emotion that he had not been able to feel for so long over-brimmed, sending him into spiraling waves of relief and ecstasy as he breathed in her presence. She was his salvation, his guiding light.

"I love you," he whispered, and she smiled as he held her.

"I know," she said against the coarse, rough material of his cloak. "I know."


End file.
